


Sir Alex

by FletcherHonorama



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Cissexism, F/F, Possibly Pre-Slash, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3101327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FletcherHonorama/pseuds/FletcherHonorama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex of Tirragen has a lot of doubts, and a lot to prove</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sir Alex

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t really know what this is, I wanted to squeeze something in for the first Ladies (K)night so it’s a very unrefined piece; it’s just what I’m feeling. It’s been a long, long, long time since I’ve read these books & I don’t have them with me to check details so I’ve just been kind of vague and hoped it would fit in canon.

Alex has been angry for a long time. There was never any doubt about going to the palace and becoming a page, then a squire, then a knight. It would have been a terrible waste to stay in Tirragen, and be nothing forever. Nobody could wield a sword like Alex, nobody had as quick and devious a mind. Perhaps knights were supposed to care more about truth and justice than Alex did, but nobody was perfect.

Nobody except Alan, of course.

He was good, Alex would admit that much. He was fast and tough and had a mean streak in him to rival anybody’s. He’d learned frighteningly quickly, from a basket case wielding a sword on arrival to almost rivalling Alex for skill quick as blinking. But he wasn’t better than Alex. She hadn’t come this far to end up second best. 

Logically speaking, Alex had to get close to Alan. Alex was best, and Alan was second, so the best thing for Alex would be to train with Alan as hard as possible, as often as possible. With the others too, of course, for versatility and experience, but fighting Alan had the most value for her. And he seemed just as eager to test his skills against Alex. No doubt he was thinking along the same lines as she was. They used each other to stay ahead of each other. Alan was Alex’s mouse, and Alex was his.

Alex hated Alan sometimes, more than she hated anything else. Alan had everything Alex ever had, or wanted. Alan was the purple-eyed darling of the entire court. He had no fear of anything. 

Alex sometimes thought she’d choke to death on her own fear long before she had to face the Chamber of the Ordeal. But nobody would know about Alex, unless she told them. There was no way of telling. There was no reason she couldn’t be fearless like Alan, to smile and laugh with her friends and practise swordfighting like it was a craft, not a lifeline. And yet, her fear kept her awake at night and bundled itself into tight, suffocating anger and resentment by day. 

“Are you alright, Alex?” Alan asked one day once they’d fought themselves to an exhausted draw.

“What do you mean?” Alex returned shortly, trying to gather both her breath and her composure.

Alan looked at her with those impossible eyes. Alex looked away. “Never mind,” said Alan, shaking his head. Then he grinned, a sparkle in his eye. “You just seemed a little slow today, don’t you think?”

Alex kept herself to half a smile. “I must be, since you’re still standing.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “I won’t go so easy on you next time then. Fair warning.”

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

If there was anyone who could help Alex survive the Chamber of the Ordeal and come out a knight, it was Roger. Alex was never sure how much Roger knew, or suspected. But she did know that Roger, Duke of Conté, would never ever let his own hand-picked squire fail the Chamber. Alex may not like him, nowhere near it, but he had powerful magic and powerful ambitions and he was her best chance at surviving the Chamber of the Ordeal.

Once Alex was a knight, she would be free. Nothing could deny the magic of the Chamber. Nobody could tell her she didn’t belong. Not even herself.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she has no idea why she can’t stop herself from watching Alan, going where he goes. He’s on her mind, and it’s not just because Roger has taken an unhealthy interest. Alex has her own mind, kept private and protected from Roger and everybody, and there’s one face that she can’t stop seeing. Alex is going into the Chamber soon, the one event that will define her entire life, and all she can think about is Alan of Trebond. 

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

“Alanna,” Jon says under his breath, when they think they’re alone, and Alex looks at Alan with all new eyes.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

She’s going into the Chamber, and Roger hasn’t helped her at all. She seeks Alanna out for one last contest. Their battles have shaped Alex, more than anything else in her life. She must have known, somehow, that Alanna was just like her, that they were the same. Alex can’t see herself entering the Chamber of the Ordeal without first taking one final test against the only measuring stick that mattered.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

They fight and they’re poetry in motion, like they always were. Alex envies Alanna’s ability to fight with either hand, but on sheer skill and technique she has always been cleaner, more clinical. Alex wonders, not for the first time, whether the two of them would be so close to equally matched if they hadn’t had the countless hours of practice together. A fight between complete strangers was usually over within seconds. What the two of them were doing now was closer to dancing than it was to combat.

Or so it feels, until the tip of Alanna’s sword jabs into the joint of Alex’s shoulder with more force than anyone that size should be able to muster. It jolts Alex out of her thoughts, but not quickly enough to defend against Alanna’s next three blows.

“Thanks, Alanna,” says Alex. She feels dizzy, lost in time. She doesn’t feel the sting in her shoulder, her elbow, her ribs. There’s nothing beyond the two of them here except the Chamber, and the Chamber is tomorrow. 

“Al—” Alanna doesn’t speak. Her purple eyes shine brightly in her suddenly ghost-white face. Maybe Alex has set her adrift as well. Maybe they could stay here forever, like they were still pages together, fighting and teasing and testing, and let the rest of the world be damned. Maybe they would never prove which of them was the superior fighter. Maybe it was better that way.

Alanna speaks hoarsely. “Alex, you can’t say anything.”

“No,” Alex says peacefully. “I can’t.”

“How did you know? Does _Roger_ know?”

“I don’t care about Roger,” says Alex. She wants to laugh. She wants to giggle. But Alanna is still Alan, and Alan never had much of a sense of humour.

Alanna stumbles across the room and sits heavily on a bench. She’s looking at Alex like she’s ready for an attack, whether by weapon or word. “How did you find out?” she asks again.

Alex licks her lips. Alanna would be furious at Jon if she knew it was his fault. “Jon called you Alanna,” she says. A sudden resentment burns in her, overshadowing the pleasure she took in getting the Crown Prince in trouble. “I suppose everybody else knows, but me.”

“No,” say Alanna abruptly. “No, they don’t.”

That’s an oddly heavy weight off Alex’s shoulders, but another thought has occurred to her in the meantime and she feels herself smiling at that one instead. “No wonder we’re the best swordsmen in court,” she says. “We always had something more to prove.”

Alanna scowls, always ready to deny any kind of weakness, to spit back at any insults she imagines. “ _I_ don’t have _anything_ –“ then she stops and sits back. “We?”

Alex’s tongue ties itself up in her mouth and she says nothing.

“You’re not a woman,” Alanna says. She shakes her head. “You’re not. I’ve seen you naked.”

“I’m going into the Chamber tomorrow,” Alex says to her. “I hope I make it out the other side, for both our sakes.”

Alanna frowns. “Alex…”

“If I don’t, I can promise you it’s not because I wasn’t good enough. I’ve done everything I can to be ready. If it doesn’t let women be knights, if I can’t … I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Anyone can become a knight,” Alanna says firmly.

“Then why is it only men? Why is it only ever men?”

Alanna scowls. “Because men think they’re special and no woman has dared to prove them wrong before.”

“I will,” Alex says, taking what she could of Alanna’s certainty and pride and letting it bolster her. “I’ll show them.”

“But you’re not—”

Alex doesn’t listen. She grins. “It’ll burn you your whole life, I bet, when I beat you to the punch.”

Alanna stands bolt upright and strides towards the centre of the room, as though Alex has challenged her to a duel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re not—”

“I’m a woman,” says Alex. “I know it. I’ve known it forever. I never had to hide my body like you but I had to hide who I was just the same. I wish I’d known about you, I wish you’d told me, like you did _Jon_ , and then—”

“How could I, when you’re Roger’s squire?” snaps Alanna. “I barely know you any more, none of us do, you hide away—”

She’s working herself into a tirade, and Alex is scared of what might come out in it. “I know Roger has it in for you,” she says, ignoring Alanna talking over the top of her. “I think that’s why he chose me, because we were friends. He used that against both of us. He turned me around and sideways to see what use I was to him. He knew I had secrets, and you did as well.”

Alanna was listening now. Smoldering, but silent.

“But he never found out mine, and I’ll never tell him yours. I’m only his squire for a few more hours, anyway. Once I’m a knight…” Alex finds herself at a loss for words.

“Once you’re a knight what?” Alanna asks impatiently.

“I don’t know,” says Alex. “I honestly can’t see beyond tomorrow.”

“Honestly,” Alanna says flatly, dubiously.

“If I don’t come out of the Chamber a knight then my life is over,” Alex says. “There’s no better time to start being honest.”

“I can think of a few times it might have helped.”

Alex concedes that point.

“Like now, for example,” she continues. “If you know anything about what Roger’s plotting, you have to tell King Roald. Or Mylos, or Jon, or Gary, anybody. Right now.”

“In case I die in the Chamber?” Alex says. It comes out like a joke, but it’s far from being one.

Alanna skewers her with angry eyes. “Because anything else is treason.”

“I can’t prove anything,” Alex says quietly. “Roger doesn’t trust me. It won’t be any use.”

“You’re pathetic, Alex,” Alanna says, right to her face. “Roger doesn’t trust you, I don’t trust you, nobody trusts you! Boo hoo! All you have to do to be trusted, Alex, is be trustworthy. Do the right thing. If you can’t even do that, it’s not going to be _being a woman_ that stops you from becoming a knight! It’s going to be your own damn self!”

It’s a few moments before Alex can speak. This has always been what she loves about Alanna. Her skill with the sword comes from this place - when Alex admires her swordplay, she’s admiring the spirit behind it as much as the skill. Alanna’s always on her mind because she is what Alex is not. Not yet.

Alex puts a hand on Alanna’s shoulder, trying to ignore her automatic defensive stance. “I’m going to be a knight,” she says. “The Chamber won’t stop me, Roger won’t stop me, you won’t, I won’t. Nothing will.”

“Come and talk to Mylos,” Alanna says. Her cheeks are still red from exertion and anger. She smells of stale sweat and leather. “I’ll come with you.”

Nothing will ever stand in Alanna’s way, but Alex isn’t going to walk in her footsteps and hope to be sheltered. It hadn’t worked with Roger: he’d done nothing for her. Alex wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. She wasn’t going to follow Alanna: she was going to impress her and help her and fight back-to-back with her. 

“No,” Alex says. “I’ll go.” She tightens her hand on Alanna’s shoulder, but it isn’t enough. She pulls Alanna into a hug. When Alanna hugs her back, just a little, very carefully, she can finally breathe again.

Alex doesn’t let the hug last long enough to make Alanna uncomfortable. She doesn’t want her to have to push away. So she lets go and steps back long before she wants to, reluctantly meeting Alanna’s eyes.

“You’ll go and talk to Mylos,” Alanna says. She still sounds a little suspicious, but there’s something else there now as well.

Alex nods. “I will.”

Alanna’s eyes glint. “Good luck in the Chamber.”

“I don’t need luck,” Alex says, grateful for the return to well-trodden ground, “I’m going to be a knight.”


End file.
